Page 130 of Once a Villain
He held it almost casually as he strode to his position by the door. A shiver ran through Joan at the sight of him. He’d once wielded a sword just like that one, in the room directly above them. He’d saved Joan’s life with it. And then he’d killed Aaron’s father, and countless other Olivers.
He pushed a sweep of dark hair from his eyes. With that sword in hand, he lookedexactlylike his former self, the versionthat Joan had first fallen in love with.
As Joan thought that, she felt itagain—the great cogs of the timeline turning and turning, like screws tightening. The premonition from the library hit her once more—hard enough to steal her breath.Something awful is going to happen tonight.She pushed away the feeling, the thought. That was just her own fear talking.
She checked their positions one last time. They’d locked the door to the China Room, but Ruth and Aaron were guarding it, just in case. Tom and Nick stood by the door leading to the principal staircase. This one was unlocked; they were gambling on Eleanor coming through the main entrance. In the corner, Sylvie and Frankie were in their little backpacks, protected by a ring of heavy chairs.
“Ready?” Joan asked again, and the others nodded.
“Let’s get this done,” Nick said.
Jamie placed the device with his recorded memory on the floor.
He stepped back, and then—between one blink and another—a man appeared in the sunroom, looking so real that unease roiled inside Joan. He wasn’t actually here, she reminded herself; he was just an illusion that Jamie had created. She could hear the others shifting in place nervously too, though.
This was the King. Eleanor’s old nemesis, and theirs. The man who’d erased the Grave family. He was the reason Joan had never known her own mother. The reason why Aaron’s mother had been executed.
And he’d once been the most powerful and terrifying figure in the world.
The last time Joan had seen him, he’d been so brilliant with radiance that she’d had to look away, her eyes watering. It had been Jamie’s idea to record him without that radiance; Jamie had once been the Royal Archive for the King, and he remembered fragments of the man himself.He’ll appear weak without all that light, Jamie had said.
So this was the first time Joan had seen the King’s face, up close and clear. She stared at him now. She’d only been able to snatch glimpses of him last time, but he’d seemed familiar somehow. He still did—a little—although she couldn’t place why. She guessed that he was about thirty years old. He had mousy brown hair in a messy style, a little more boyish than really suited him. His face was thin, his nose sharp, and his lips so pale that they seemed to disappear into his face. It was hard to imagine that he’d once wielded near-complete control of the timeline.
Joan flicked on the lamp, illuminating the King in the sunroom window. Then she slipped back into the darkness with Jamie.
With the light on, Jamie’s illusion was even more perfect. It lookedexactlylike the King was here, talking animatedly with someone just out of sight. Jamie hadn’t bothered to record his voice, and so he spoke without sound.
What would Eleanor think when she saw him? Would she believe her old nemesis was back—weak now, and vulnerable, without all the power he’d once had?
Joan was getting to know her sister; she was almost sure that Eleanor would come in without much backup, her emotionshigh and her thoughts clouded. Eleanor would want to hurt this man, to punish him—even if he didn’t remember who he’d once been.
They waited in nervous silence in the dark.
Joan strained, searching for Eleanor through the window. Was she out there? Was this going to work?
Outside, the trees of the South Garden were strung with fairy lights that matched the fireworks from earlier: eerie whites and blues. Clusters of people stood under the trees, talking and drinking. Every now and then, one of them glanced toward the sunroom, and then away again, uninterested. Only one person at this party would know who this man was.
“Maybe she’s not coming,” Jamie whispered after a while.
Joan had begun to fear that too. But then they all heard it—footsteps on the staircase. Not the plod of people planning to walk all the way up to the next level, but faster steps, heading for the first landing, where the Breakfast Room was.
More than one person, Joan realized. A group. Nick held up a hand.Fivepeople.
Would one of them be Eleanor?
The door cracked, and then everything happened all at once.
Nick yanked the door open, and a guard came with it—a large man stumbling into the room. Nick knocked him out with a fist, weighted with the handle of the sword. He kicked the man out of the way, and Tom handled the next guy with an elbow to the throat.
An Argent was next. He stared, openmouthed—he hadn’texpected the sudden attack. But he spluttered a command now: “Turn against your friends! Kill them!” He was using his mind-controlling power. And he wasstrong.
Joan fought the powerful compulsion of it, but she found herself turning, reaching to shove Jamie down, to put her hands around his throat. She had just enough time to realize that Jamie was turning too—to attackher—and then the compulsion abruptly ended.
Nick had knocked the man out—the Argent powers hadn’t worked on him. He was already turning to the next person, a powerful member of the Ali family. Joan recognized her from the last time they’d fought Eleanor: Mariam.
Mariam threw an invisible Ali shield out, making them stumble back as if hit by an immense gust of wind. Joan caught Ruth’s hand, helping her keep her feet. Nick held his ground, though,the blow rippling harmlessly through him.
“Don’t kill her!” Tom gasped to him. His sister was an Ali, and he had a soft spot for them.
